a surrender - 61

(Continuing "a surrender", chapter seven, "freely have you received, freely give") 

On the strangely clear horizon there is a sail, coming closer, riding before the wind. I rise to my feet and stare. Someone’s made it through the storm!

They won’t come here, though they seem to be headed for it. No boat makes landfall here. They know what sort of place it is. The boat does not turn, the sail stays steady, grows bigger by the moment. Fear starts to rise in me. Who are these men? They come here—to this cursed place—they’re headed straight for me—through the middle of the worst storm of the year, and with them comes the sun and calm; something’s not right. They are pulling into shore, reefing in the sail, it’s dripping; their boat gleams wet in the sun, the water still sloshes in the bottom of it; they’re still bailing! They were right in the middle of that—and now they’re here.

And one of them has seen me.

I stand tall. I am Legion. They will remember this day.

One of them points, shouts, jumps back in the boat; but the first one acts as if he has not heard. He is coming. As he comes he is looking at me, straight at me, he sees nothing but me.

Legion rises screaming, shrieking, thousands of voices strong; they see him, they see that he sees me—that he sees them. Who is this man? A wild fear and a wild hope rise in me like the wind and another voice drowns out the voice of Legion in my mind, a voice that cracks like a whip: Come OUT of him!

Legion yelps like a kicked dog, then screams again and charges, takes me running, running at him as fast as I can with my tangled hair whipping, a rock still in my hand. I can feel their thousands, thousands of feet trampling me, but I look up and before I am lost to myself I see his face, his eyes, and I see the thing that I will never forget.

He is not afraid.

 

Continued...